The sun sets over the city
Casting it's shimmer of gold
As daylight gives way to evening
I turn against the cold
The hour is fast approaching
Street lamps will hum and glow
I'm done with this day, all will soon drift away
As the fall fades away with the snow
This city has weathered the changes
As she rises and falls through the years
Her structure is sound and her spirit is strong
Her people have triumphed through tears
She was grand and great in the height of her days
If you listen and look all around
You may catch a glimpse, you may hear a song
Of her people, her streets, and her sound
Hear the hooves of the horses on cobblestone streets
The wagons that pass in a hurry
The bustle of workers rushing by in a blur
Their faces fraught with worry
They push through their days, they never see rest
Life is hard and unfair for them, while others are blessed
With wealth and privilege beyond all compare
Days spent in splendor for some, for some in despair
While one man toils to bring home his rent
His mind and his spirit quite worn
The fortunate folk live their days in high style
Enjoying lives into which they were born
They may pass on the street
One is meticulously neat
While the other is tattered and torn
Their stories live on through the pieces they've left
If you open your eyes and your mind
You will feel and embrace why the all loved this place
Collar City still echoes their song.
Poem by: Kathleen Prue
